If You Meant That
by haveyouseenmyhaggis
Summary: Clint has no idea how Phil got him to care. All he knows is that Phil did it. And it's terrifying. He figures it's like watching the sunset - you spend so long staring at it but nothing seems to change until you suddenly it's dark all at once and the world is just the same but still ever so slightly different.


Clint has no idea how Phil did it. He doesn't know the older agent managed to get him to care, to_ want_ to care when he'd be so determined to keep everyone at a distance. Distance has always been safe. But now...? All he knows is that Phil did it. And it's terrifying.

He figures it's like watching the sunset - you spend so long staring at it but nothing seems to change until you suddenly it's dark all at once. It's like that. He's spent so long with Phil, so many days on missions, in the office, in the range - friends, despite Clint's initial efforts to distance himself from everyone. He doesn't notice quite how much he cares, how much the other man means to him. It all happens so slowly that it doesn't really register.

Until all at once he does notice. They'd been on the field and he'd heard the words over the radio: "Coulson's post's gone down. Suspected agent down. More than likely."

Clint's suddenly realises just how much he cares by just how much it _hurts_. It feels like he's been shot; like his world is crashing down around him. Like someone just jammed a knife into his heart and twisted the blade.

Clint does his best to not think about it, to do his job, to make sure the mission is a success but he's on the way to the medical bay as soon as he lands back at S.H.I.E.L.D HQ.

It feels like the things he'd been so certain of - his job, his relationship with Phil... He feels like it's all changed. In the same way a street can look the same yet different in the dark, Clint's world is the same but ever so slightly different. He's in the dark. He doesn't understand this - what he's feeling. Care, maybe even _love_... That's more alien than anything Clint's ever fought at S.H.I.E.L.D. All he knows is that he's _aware _what he feels now.

He's completely thrown for a moment when Phil himself walks out of the medical bay, arm in a sling. He'd been so certain there'd be blood and gore and beeping machines and white coats saying "Expect the worst." For a moment, all he can do is stare blankly at Phil, wide eyed and gaping.

But Phil just smiles, tired but genuine. "Look sharp, Agent," he says coolly, reaching his good hand to rest on Clint's arm, making to steer him back towards the office.

Clint just stands there, all the colour gone from his face. "...You're not dead," he says as though he's trying to convince himself of that and, well, he probably is trying to do just that. "You're... Broken arm. Your look out post went down and all you've got is a broken arm," he says, but the laugh he gives is bordering on hysterical.

Phil just nods and smiles, "Got lucky. It wasn't as bad as the Comms probably made it out to be," he laughs.

Clint just stares. Because god, now that he's starting to really register what's going on, he feels almost drunk with relief - Phil's okay, he's fine. That's great. But it's like looking back at the sky and suddenly realising it's dark. He frowns, trying valiantly to put the words together in his head to explain what he's thinking. But he can't.

Phil is starting to look worried though and he quirks an eyebrow. "I'm beginning to suspect you might be in shock though, Agent. Are you o-."

And then Clint kisses him, desperate and frightened and overwhelmed. His hands move to the side of Phil's face, keeping him there for a moment - although he wouldn't be surprised if Phil punched him. It's an impulse and it's the only thing he can do to try and explain what he's feeling. It's cliched but he feels like his heart is about to burst in his chest and he lets his eyes close, letting his mind go blissfully blank just for a second because this just feels _right. _

When Phil pulls back, Clint is almost certain this isn't going to be good. That Phil's going to be mad. Hate him. "Clint..." he hears him whisper - his _name. _His first name. Not just 'Barton' or 'Agent'. And it doesn't _sound _angry. If anything, strangely relieved. Quietly pleased.

Clint opens his eyes, watching Phil carefully and trying to read his expression. Phil's smiling though, genuine and happy. He slowly reaches his good hand up to the side of the archer's face, thumb brushing along Clint's bottom lip with a thoughtful expression. It's all Clint can do to stand there and let him, trembling just slightly as he tries to put this all into place in his head. "If you meant that as much as I want you to have," the older man begins slowly, smiling fondly at the archer. "...you'll have made me a very happy man..."

And it's strange because Clint does mean it. He wants this more than anything now. He can see that now. It seems different now. Like looking to the sky and realising it's suddenly dark even though you've been there all along and watching, but the change happens so slowly you're in darkness before you realise it.

Although no... No, that's not right, Clint decides. It's like the dawn. Struggling through in the dark and then suddenly it's not dark anymore. You've been watching the dark so long you never really notice it getting light until it is. All at once and so completely. A new day you don't know what to expect from. But it's light nonetheless.

The darkness is gone. And Clint has no idea how Phil did it. How he became the light in the dark and it's terrifying.

But maybe, just this once, that's okay.


End file.
